


By any other name

by greenfionn



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/F, First Time, Stone Butch Mac
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:27:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25808107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenfionn/pseuds/greenfionn
Summary: Mac put one finger beneath Dot’s chin and tipped her head up. She could feel Dot’s pulse beating fast under her skin.“Dot,” she said, cupping her jaw, “do you want me to show you?”
Relationships: Elizabeth MacMillan/Dorothy "Dot" Williams
Comments: 18
Kudos: 54





	By any other name

**Author's Note:**

> To a modern eye Dot is definitely cheating on Hugh in this, but does it really count if it's the 1920s and gay? Enquiring minds don't really care. Also note there is some cissexist language from Mac.

“Dr Macmillan,” Dot started, before trailing off. She blushed prettily, Mac thought. They were up late waiting for Phryne and while Dot might need to wait up for her employer, Mac wasn’t entirely sure why she hadn’t just gone home. The company, perhaps. 

“Yes?” she prompted. 

Dot looked down at her lap where she was twisting her hands. “Is it true that-”

Ah, Mac thought. She had an idea where this might be going. Why, Dorothy, who would have thought? 

“-that you don’t associate with men?”

Mac couldn’t help but laugh at the delicate language. “It’s true. Useless creatures, if you ask me.” She tilted her head. “Why  _ do  _ you ask me?”

“It’s Hugh!” burst out Dot. “Ever since we got engaged it seems like he’s someone else. Like he wants me to be someone else.”

“Poor thing,” Mac murmured. She got up from her chair and sat next to Dot on the sofa, putting her arm around Dot’s shoulders. 

“Well, my dear,” she said. “I can’t say I have personal experience with that particular scenario, but I believe those sorts of expectations to be a chronic failing of men and one reason I avoid them, romantically at least. But that’s not to say you can’t expect better of your Hugh.”

“What are the other reasons?” Dot said, looking up at Mac with eyes wide and lips slightly parted. Mac wondered if she knew what she was doing. 

She realized Dot was waiting for an answer and she had lost track of the conversation entirely. “Hmm?” 

“What are the other reasons? That you avoid men.”

There it was. Mac considered her options. Dot was Catholic, but she was Phryne’s too. And Mac had little interest in pretending to be someone she wasn’t for another person’s comfort. 

She said casually, “Because, Dot, I rather prefer women.” Dot didn’t immediately fling off the arm Mac had around her, which was a good start. 

“You mean, romantically,” Dot said carefully. Mac nodded. “And-” She bit her lip.

Mac took pity on her. “And sexually.”

“I’ve heard of-  _ that _ , but-” Dot licked her lips. Mac watched the tip of her pink tongue dart out. “How? I mean, I don’t understand…”

Mac put one finger beneath Dot’s chin and tipped her head up. She could feel Dot’s pulse beating fast under her skin. 

“Dot,” she said, cupping her jaw, “do you want me to show you?”

Dot sat very still, staring at Mac. She was quivering. Mac wanted to devour her. She wanted to tear off Dot’s dowdy dress and get her mouth on the beautiful tits it covered up. 

Instead, she leaned in very slowly and pressed her lips to Dot’s. 

Her lips were as soft as Mac had imagined, and completely unmoving under Mac’s mouth. Mac drew back. Dot brought a hand up to her lips and looked away, and Mac wondered if she had made a mistake. 

But Dot took her hand away to clasp Mac’s. “Do that again,” she whispered.

Mac gladly bent her head to Dot’s again, and this time Dot kissed back. She tasted of the tea they’d been drinking and her mouth parted perfectly for Mac. She made a quiet noise, high in her throat, and that little reaction set Mac to squeezing her thighs together. 

Mac had never fetishized inexperience but she had to own that there was something special about coaxing Dot carefully through pleasures she had never dreamed of. Dot was yielding but not passive and before long she had her hands tight on Mac’s shoulders, like she needed help staying put, and Mac had her pulled close so her breasts were crushed against Mac’s chest. 

Mac put a hand high on Dot’s side, feeling her brassiere through her dress. Dot didn’t object so she went further, cupping the heavy curve of Dot’s breast as gently as she could. Mac hoped someone, God perhaps, was appreciating her incredible restraint because she could barely remember why she wasn’t pinching Dot’s nipple through the fabric right now. 

“Is this all right?” Mac realized she was speaking in low tones, like with a spooked animal. Dot’s eyes fluttered closed and she nodded. Her chest was heaving, which did nothing for Mac’s self-control. “Tell me if you ever want me to stop.”

Feeling like they could both benefit from the exercise of temperance, Mac explored her breasts slowly. She was gratified to find that Dot’s breasts were as incredible as Mac had guessed, full and heavy in her hands. It was a crying shame to hide them every day under Dot’s sensible clothes. 

Dot was quiet but beautifully responsive. As Mac stroked and held and squeezed, Dot’s breaths grew faster and gained an edge, like she was holding back moans. Finally Mac swept a thumb over Dot’s nipple and even through her clothes that was enough for Dot to cry out. 

“It would feel better if you took some of these layers off,” she suggested. 

Dot’s hands went with pleasing quickness to the neck of her dress but she stopped before she got a single button undone. 

Mac’s heart sank. So Dot had thought better of this. Well, Mac would go home and take care of herself, and if she already knew she’d be imagining this night ending differently, that was no one’s business. 

But Dot actually said, “Not in the parlour.”

“Why, Miss Williams,” Mac said with delight. “Are you inviting me to your room? And what about Phryne?”

“Miss Fisher can handle herself,” Dot said with a firm set of her lips. She was blushing. 

“I couldn’t agree more. Lead the way.” What Phryne would say if she came home to find Mac debauching her assistant in the front parlour, Mac didn’t want to imagine. 

Dot led Mac by the hand through the kitchen to her room, in a part of the house Mac had never seen before. Sneaking through the dark and silent house made Mac feel like a girl again, getting up to mischief in school. In fact, Mac’s schoolgirl mischief had often involved sneaking into other girls’ beds.

In the dark Mac tripped over what felt to be a cast iron doorstop and hopped around holding her toes, hand over her mouth to muffle her curses. Dot clapped a hand over her mouth too, to stifle giggles, eyes crinkled with laughter. 

“Insensitive to my pain, I see,” whispered Mac once she was able to stop swearing. 

Still laughing, Dot led her through the door into her room and flicked the light on. It was a small neat room, bed tidily made in the corner, a crucifix hanging on the wall. 

“I’m sorry, it’s only Miss Fisher trips over that too, all the time, and only last week she was saying she knew she didn’t have to worry about me bringing home any gentleman callers, since they’d surely break their toes before making it to my bedroom.”

Mac raised her eyebrows. “I see no gentleman callers here.”

Dot’s face fell slightly. “No.”

Before Dot could think too hard, Mac pulled her in for a kiss. Dot evinced no hesitation, kissing Mac sweetly and slipping her hands under Mac’s jacket. 

Mac backed her toward the bed and then sat down on the edge. She patted her lap. Dot blushed but climbed into it, straddling Mac’s thighs and circling her arms around Mac’s shoulders. Good Lord, she was a wonder. Surely her constable didn’t appreciate her as she deserved. Mac’s hands itched to grab her bottom, which Mac was sure was lovely and round, but she held back. 

“Let me,” she said, and reached for the top button of Dot’s dress. It calmed her down to carefully undo the line of small buttons, slipping them through the holes until Dot’s dress was open to the waist. 

Mac rubbed her thumbs in circles against Dot’s nipples, visible through her slip. Dot squirmed and sighed. Mac wondered if she would like to rub off on her thigh and set that side for later. She thought about using her mouth, then realized there was no reason not to and bent down to take one nipple in her mouth, sucking it through the fabric. Dot gasped. 

“How does it feel?”

“G-good.” Her blush was delicious. Mac resolved to make Dot describe how she was feeling at every opportunity. 

“Do you want to take your slip off?”

Dot slipped out of the arms of her dress so it fell to her waist and shifted in Mac’s lap, pulling her slip off over her head. It revealed a shockingly modern brassiere; Mac thought she detected Phryne’s influence. 

“That too.” At Dot’s hesitation she said, “I want to see, darling girl.”

Dot blushed harder but unclipped the brassiere and pulled it off, letting her breasts spill free. 

Mac’s mouth watered. Dot was gorgeous, with heavy beautiful breasts. Her nipples were wide and dark and already standing out hard. 

“Darling,” she managed to say, stunned, before she had to suck one nipple into her mouth. Dot squeaked and shifted again in Mac’s lap. Mac took her by the waist and settled her over one thigh. She could feel the core of her, hot, even through Dot’s underthings and Mac’s trousers, but she couldn’t feel if she was wet. 

Mac hoped she was. She hoped Dot was absolutely soaking through her sensible knickers, leaving a damp patch on Mac’s trousers. She hoped Dot had never known she could feel like this.

“Do what feels good,” she said, giving Dot an instructive push against her thigh. Then she gave into temptation and slid her hands down to feel Dot’s bottom, which was indeed plump and round and perfect for sinking one’s hands into. Mac liked a girl with a little flesh on her bones and Dot was just her type, all plumpness and soft curves. 

Mac returned her mouth to Dot’s nipple, pinching the other lightly with one hand. That gave Dot the push she needed to grind down on Mac’s thigh, which she did once before giving a shocked gasp. 

“Does that feel good?” Mac asked, lifting her head from Dot’s breasts regretfully. 

Dot gulped and nodded. “It- I’m-”

“Do it again,” Mac said, and by way of encouragement set her hands back on Dot’s hips and slid her forward. 

Dot rocked back and forth, gaining speed. “Dr Macmillan-”

“Call me Mac,” she interrupted. 

“Mac,” Dot gasped. “It feels like- something is happening-”

Mac groaned and put both hands back on Dot’s breasts. In between kisses she said, “Something is supposed to happen, my dear.” 

Dot was panting against her mouth, moving frantically, pushing herself hard against Mac’s thigh. She was a squirming heavy weight in Mac’s lap and Mac wanted to keep her there forever. She was blinking furiously. 

“I don’t know what’s-” she said, throwing her head back. 

“Don’t stop,” Mac said, “you’re doing beautifully darling, don’t stop.” She sucked one nipple into her mouth and pinched the other, using her free hand on Dot’s bottom to urge her to more friction. 

“Mac, Mac,” said Dot, trembling. “I think- oh!” And she dissolved into a series of shuddering cries as she shook apart in Mac’s lap. 

Mac petted her back and murmured sweet nothings as Dot hid her face in the crook of Mac’s shoulder. “Beautiful, darling, well done. You were perfect.”

At length Dot drew back and Mac could see her lashes were damp. “Was that-”

“ _ Le petit mort _ , indeed,” Mac said, and wondered if Dot did not even touch herself. Possible, even likely. “Now you can take that dress the rest of the way off, if you don’t mind.”

“We’re not done?” Dot said, but she didn’t sound displeased.

“We’re done if you want us to be done, but I would rather not be until I’ve gotten to touch you properly.”

Dot slid stiffly off her lap and boldly met Mac’s gaze as she undid the rest of her dress and flung it over a chair before stepping out of her shoes and the rest of her underthings. She stood there, naked as the day she was born,and Mac’s mouth went dry. 

Then she went quickly to the bed and slipped under the covers, so Mac could only see her face. She laughed. “Shy now?”

Dot said, “What about you? You’re still dressed.”

“Very true,” Mac said, and took off her jacket and waistcoat so she stood in her shirt and trousers, braces exposed. She took off her shoes too for good measure. 

Mac stretched herself out on the bed next to Dot, on top of the covers, and kissed her. It started gentle and sweet but soon Dot opened her mouth more and it quickly became heated, a deep kiss that made Mac want more. 

“Can I touch you?”

Dot said, “Yes,” so Mac rucked the covers up and settled next to her. She ran a hand down Dot’s side, over the curve of waist and hip. Dot shivered. Mac let her hand rest low on Dot’s soft belly, just before her pubic hair. 

“Can I keep going?” Dot nodded, her eyes closed. Mac said, “Look at me, sweetheart,” so Dot met her gaze. She said, “I want to make you feel good,” and at that Dot closed her eyes again.

She slipped a hand down to cup Dot’s cunt. Between her legs the curls of her pubic hair were soaked and slippery. 

“Someone has been enjoying herself,” she said. “Now Dot, not every woman can get off twice in a row, but so long as we’re both having a good time we can go as long as we like.”

And with that she drew a finger between the lips of Dot’s cunt, opening her up so Mac could feel her, hot and slippery. She was very wet, so wet Mac felt sure she could slide two fingers directly inside, were she not at this point convinced that Dot had never been touched in that way. 

“Not inside,” said Dot in a high voice. 

“Of course not,” soothed Mac, and carefully circled Dot’s clitoris. Dot’s hips jerked, and she cried out. “Have you ever-” She didn’t even have to finish the sentence before Dot shook her head. 

“This is the seat of a woman’s pleasure,” she explained, and rubbed it again. Dot moaned, hips rolling. Her head was tipped back so Mac set her mouth to her lovely neck. She wouldn’t leave marks, but she wanted to. She imagined Dot blushing and rubbing at a dark bruise on her pale skin the next day. 

Mac brought more fingers into play so she was rubbing at Dot broadly, surrounding and covering her clitty. Dot was so wet it was an easy, slick slide, and getting wetter. Mac’s fingers would be pruney when they were done, like she’d been taking a bath. 

“Do you like it?”

Dot moaned before she found her words. “Yes— Oh, I think it’s going to happen again.”

“Good,” Mac groaned, feeling rather overcome herself, and bit into the thin skin under her jaw. 

“Don’t stop, Mac, don’t stop,” said Dot urgently, and grabbed Mac’s wrist tightly to hold her in place. She thrust against Mac’s fingers jerkily and then cried out, long and loud enough Mac worried about neighbors. Her cunt was convulsing under Mac’s hand. 

When she was done Mac pulled her into a deep kiss. “Incredible,” Mac said at the same time as Dot said, “My goodness,” and Mac laughed. 

“Now you’ll know what you like when your constable finally removes his head from his arse.”

Dot rolled her eyes. “But what about you?” She licked her lips, looking nervous. “Can I-” she gestured vaguely at Mac’s crotch. 

“Oh, no thank you, my dear, I won’t be half a tick.” Mac unbuttoned her trousers and slid one hand inside. Her own cunt was wet and throbbing and it was a work of moments to bring herself to a shattering climax. The aftershocks still rippling through her, she collapsed onto the bed next to Dot. 

“Now come here,” she said sleepily, pulling Dot’s head onto her shoulder and scratching at her scalp. “Just give me a minute and I’ll get right up.”

Mac was right on the edge of sleep when the sound of the front door closing penetrated her doze. Phryne, back safe and sound after all. She listened as Phryne’s shoes clacked through the hallway, getting closer, then stifled a laugh when she heard a small thud and Phryne’s muffled curses. 

Phryne’s voice came low through the door. “Dot? Are you up? I see the light.”

Dot’s eyes were wide. “Yes, miss, just going to sleep now.”

“Good, I told you there was no reason to stay up. And Mac’s gone home?”

“Dr Macmillan-” Mac pressed her lips together in a smile and stayed quiet. Let Dot handle this one. “-has turned in for the night.”

“Good, good. Sleep well, Dot!”

“Good night, miss.”

Mac waited til Phryne’s steps had clicked away before letting out snorts of laughter. “I know you don’t like to lie,” she said, tucking Dot’s hair behind her ear, “so I’ll just sneak out early in the morning and make that true, hmm?”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I did, like, a modicum of research on 1920s lingerie and sexual slang but I probably still got it wrong. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Say hi on twitter @greenfionn!


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